


Dwarves shouldn't be this sassy

by RavenGrey



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hard days riding Thorin decides to, as he would put it, rather graciously help the company's burglar with some of his tension. Bilbo returns the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dwarves shouldn't be this sassy

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Bagginshield, so I'm pretty nervous. Hope it turned out alright. Couldn't think of a proper title, so you get the ridiculous one I made just to have it titled.

 

               Thorin’s face is pressed hard into the ‘v’ of Bilbo’s hips, the sharp line of his nose digging into the skin just above Bilbo’s belly button. His lips are stretched around Bilbo’s cock, shining with spit and looking so obscenely wonderful that Bilbo hardly knows what to do with himself. His hands flutter awkwardly above Thorin’s shoulders, unsure as to whether or not he’s aloud to touch the king-to-be who’s kneeling in front of him, hot mouth enveloping his entire length easily.

 

                “Oh, goodness, _oh_.” Bilbo gasps out, hips jolting forward while a strange heat licks its way up his spine. His hands rest briefly, lightly on the top of Thorin’s head before he settles them once more on the rock that he sits upon, his fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm.

 

               A sliver of dark amusement lights Thorin’s eyes and he drags his tongue along the bottom of Bilbo’s shaft, wringing more pleasured sounds from the wriggling Hobbit. Thorin marvels over how very easy it had been to reduce the halfling to a quivering mess, wicked delight uncurling in his stomach as Bilbo whines and moans above him.

 

               Thorin’s hands dig hard into the soft backs of Bilbo’s thighs while he holds him still, eyes locked on Bilbo’s flushed, nervous face. He pulls away from Bilbo with a soft ‘pop’ and rumbles mockingly,

 

               “If you don’t relax soon, halfling, we’ll be here for ages.” Rubbing his bearded cheek into the crease of Bilbo’s groin, the surprisingly clean scent of the little hobbit is oddly comforting; Thorin drags tongue over the skin beneath his mouth. The salty bite of sweat flavors his tongue, the faint taste of lavender beneath it as surprising as it is enjoyable.

 

               Bilbo’s breath catches and he sucks in a shaky breath, the rasp of Thorin’s beard against his tender skin causing lust to pool low in his belly. The slide of tongue has Bilbo’s aching cock twitching and his hands clench into fists as something white hot and searing nearly consumes him.

 

                “And how, _M-master dwarf_ ,” Bilbo’s voice curls sarcastically around the words, words ragged and strained due to Thorin’s attention “do you expect me to relax when-” A wrecked gasp cuts his words off and he moans loudly when Thorin neatly catches the pearly fluid that had gathered on the tip of him.

 

                 “You were saying, Master hobbit?” Thorin counters smugly, the hands that had buried themselves deep in his hair pleasing him immensely. Stroking his hands along the backs of Bilbo’s thighs, he growls out a low sound of pleasure before swallowing Bilbo down in one go. To bring such a proud little man to his proverbial knees sits quite well with Thorin; the fact that he could actually bring him to his knees if it so pleased him sits even better.

 

                “H-how am _I-_ ” Bilbo’s head falls back as he tries again, his lips parted as he draws frantic breaths. “t-to _relax_ , ah, bugger, when _you”_ Bilbo’s voice cracks on the ‘you’, voice accusing and desperate. Thorin curls his tongue around the head of Bilbo’s cock, effectively silencing the nagging hobbit. Thorin is aching in his breeches, but refuses to tend to himself until his bedmate, well, rockmate, has spent himself.

 

               Bilbo fleetingly worries himself about Thorin’s state, but the wicked curl of Thorin’s tongue drives all thought from his mind. Thorin’s hair in his hands is surprisingly soft, tangling around his fingers in a delightful way and his entire body arches when Thorin takes him into the burning heat of his mouth once more.

 

               It’s over as simply as that, a ragged cry escaping Bilbo’s lips while his hands clench and jerk in Thorin’s hair. He comes down Thorin’s throat, which swallows around him and sets off new waves of unimaginable pleasure. His hands cling and his back bows while he’s struck blind with his orgasm.

 

               Thorin swallows down everything that Bilbo has to give and when he pulls away from Bilbo’s spent cock, a prideful smirk dawns on his lips. Bilbo is gasping and frazzled, flushed heavily to the very tips of his pointy ears. Not once breaking eye contact, Thorin drags a thumb over his swollen bottom lip before sucking the digit into his mouth. “Nice and, ah, _relaxed_ , now aren’t you?” Thorin’s lips tilt upwards dangerously and he slides his hands up to roughly squeeze the hobbit’s backside.

 

               The resulting yelp he receives and the accompanying swat only add to his amusement and he grins smugly up at Bilbo, a burning kiss pressed against Bilbo’s inner thigh. Despite the fact that he’s painfully hard, he stands his hobbit on shaky knees and neatly tucks him back into his trousers, doing up the laces quickly and sending a shell shocked Bilbo on his way with a firm pinch to the backside.

 

               Bilbo turns quickly and levels a halfhearted glare in Thorin’s direction, who still hasn’t bothered to rise from his kneeling position, although he had turned to watch Bilbo leave. Thorin gives Bilbo a parting smirk, eyes dark with need. “Go on then, Mister Baggins, I’ve something that very much needs to be tended too.” He murmurs lowly, shifting purposefully, his legs parted obscenely wide as he sits flat on the ground.

 

               He smirks amusedly when the hobbit turns with a huff and leaves hastily on wobbly legs, his entire face a brilliant shade of red. Thorin watches Bilbo hungrily until he’s out of sight and then sets about the business of relieving himself of the need the hobbit had caused. One hand down his breeches while the other steadies himself, he sets about doing just that. His strokes are firm and disciplined, his intentions to have it done and over with as quickly as possible.

 

               Thoughts of his hobbit aid with that and he bucks his hips into the tight circle of his hand, perfectly silent except for the soft sound of skin sliding against skin and his even breaths. Bilbo’s back hits a tree just out of sight from where Thorin reclines, his legs having only gotten him that far. With his pulse pounding frantically in his own ears and aftershocks of pleasure threatening to take his knees out from under him, he listens to the soft hush of Thorin’s breathing. Additionally, he listens to the muffled, wet sound of Thorin’s hand sliding over his length and blushes like a virgin lass while trying to wrap his mind around what had just occurred.

 

               He isn’t very successful. His skin feels overly warm and it’s going to take him days to be able to even look at the man, much less meet his eye, without going red in the face and rambling like a fool. It takes a few really, _really_ deep breaths and a few aborted attempts for him to follow through with the insane idea that had planted itself in his mind, but he does. Stepping away from the tree, he returns to Thorin, feet padding almost silently over the forest floor.

 

               Thorin gives the hobbit a sharp glance when he approaches, an eyebrow rising imperiously as he takes in the man’s appearance. A perfectly lethal smirk dawns on his face as he once again takes in the mess he’s made of the man. The eyebrow alone prompt Bilbo into speaking and he says haughtily “A proper Baggins would never leave his partner alone and unsated, Master Oakenshield, and I will not be the first to have done so.” Bilbo holds his head high despite the note of uncertainty behind the words.

 

               Thorin’s lips twitch upwards in the vaguest hint of a smile and he gives Bilbo a thoroughly considering look before patting his thigh with his free hand. Bilbo swallows hard and takes the step forward that puts him well within the range of Thorin’s personal space. Uncomfortable with standing while Thorin is seated, Bilbo drops quickly and neatly to his knees, still unsure of where to put his hands.

 

               Thorin’s hand hadn’t stilled throughout and he watches the hobbit with amusement, eyes gone half- lidded. Bilbo meets his heated gaze, obviously asking for permission. Thorin gives it with a nod and smothers the groan that rises hard in his throat when Bilbo’s hand slips into his trousers and wraps tightly around his cock. His own hand slides free and he leans back, watching Bilbo intently. Bilbo’s hand is warm and impossibly arousing against him and he allows his head to fall back, eyes still open but half closed.

 

               Bilbo is determined, bottom lip caught between his teeth while he works Thorin’s length, giving his wrist a sharp twist when he reaches the head of him before stroking him firmly from base to tip. It’s over quickly, Thorin’s body tensing while his breaths stop completely. He cums silently over Bilbo’s hand, leaning forward to sink his teeth into the soft skin of Bilbo’s shoulder, much to the hobbit’s surprise. Warmth seeps between Bilbo’s fingers, a startled yelp escaping him at the hard bite of teeth.

 

               He doesn’t jerk away from Thorin, instead stroking him steadily through his orgasm and removing his hand from Thorin’s trousers shortly after. Releasing his grip on the hobbit’s shoulder, he quickly pulls the smug little thing into his lap and presses a chaste kiss to his temple. “Quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” Thorin rumbles laughingly, holding him close, and Bilbo all but beams. 


End file.
